Attempt Number 17
by AIOFanNCRM
Summary: Jack has spent the last 300 years on a roller coaster ride of emotions. His mental stability has been in question the whole time. Up until he gains his memories and becomes a Guardian, he has a pretty dark past. TW: Suicidal attempts.
1. Prologue

**Attempt Number 17**

**Prologue**

_How am I supposed to know who I am if I don't know who I was?_

Jack Frost had had dark moments in his immortal life in the past 300 years. Some_ very_ dark moments.

For him, the loneliness and the unanswered questions had driven him to moments of madness. To moments of sadness. And to moments of unspeakable acts.

Except now, 300 years after learning no one could see him or feel him or hear him, he stood before Santa Claus (North), the Easter Bunny (Bunnymund), the Tooth Fairy (Toothiana), and the Sandman (Sandy) – the four original Guardians of Childhood - becoming the fifth Guardian of the Children of the world. And behind him, a group of pretty amazing kids not only believed in the Guardians, but believed in _him_. They could see him, they could touch him, and they could even hear him.

And at that moment, everything Jack had ever experienced – the pain, the hurt, the anger, the frustration, the unfeeling of it all – washed away like a clean slate. He was beginning a new chapter in his immortal life. He knew his past, had his memories back, and he was about to be who he was meant to be – a Guardian. The Guardian of Fun. A Winter Spirit bringing joy to all, especially in the darkest of days.

_How am I supposed to know who I am if I don't know who I was?_

The past 300 years had been a roller coaster.

No one knew what he had done or even tried. For someone who actually found joy in kids and playing, even when they _couldn't_ see him – he was pretty hard on himself. His mental state and his emotional state couldn't take it at times.

But now as a Guardian, he was about to be haunted by what he had done… what he had tried… because sometimes…_ it had all just been too much_.

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**Author's Note:** PLOT BUNNIES.

So, curious as to where I'm gonna take this? Well... you will find out with the first chapter, but I hope you sense something is up with Jack. I mean, he has spent 300 years alone - unseen, unheard, unwelcome. That has got to play with his emotions and mental stability by a LOT.

I don't want to kid with anyone with this subject, so I am going to basically tell you what the next chapters will entail: Trigger Warning: Suicide thoughts and attempts.

Thanks for taking a look - Danielle


	2. Frozen

**Author's Note:** I gotta admit, I may have found a story line that may not be a whole lot interesting... but, I might be able to turn a creative twist to it. Let's see what I can do, lol.

Thanks for all the favorites and follows! I hope I don't disappoint! And thank you for reviewing :) - Danielle

I would also like to thank **viavision** on tumblr for this suicide attempt idea.

**Background:** My canon: Jack was born on December 24th, 1694 and died on January 2nd, 1713 – the day he was given immortality by MiM. I believe he died just after his 18th birthday.

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**Chapter 1: **

**Frozen**

**December 24th, 1736**

He had spent almost 23 years in agony.

On the night he had been born, he had learned he could control the wind. On the night he had been born, he had learned he could freeze things. He could control the winter elements. And he liked to make a mess with it at times.

He had also learned not a soul on earth could see him. It was like he wasn't human. He was invisible. No one could hear him, touch him, or see him.

And that reality had really come home on the night Jack first attempted to kill himself.

The idea had come slowly. He could manipulate wind and the winter elements, so of course, he was always cold, and the snow was always around him. Ice, snow, and wind. It was his specialty. All of this meant he should have been able to slowly_ grow colder_.

The lack of interaction with humans had really gotten to him. He felt sick to his stomach. His heart yearned for someone to say, "Hi." Or someone to _actually_ touch him. Someone to see him and actually hear him.

And it was on the night before Christmas in the year of 1736 that Jack Frost buried himself in a snow bank, his staff thrown into the nearby river. And he willed the cold to end his life.

He shivers and feels lethargic, but still awake, still_ alive_. The emptiness inside continues.

Three days later, Jack Frost climbs out of the snow bank he placed himself in and staggers to the nearby river, his staff exactly where he left it. Jack picked it up and with a burst of anger, slammed it into the raging water.

Every particle of water froze exactly where it was, the river for two miles running its width stopped dead in its tracks.

And he screamed. "WHY, WHY AM I ALONE?!"

And no one would ever answer back. No one ever did – not for the past 23 years. And they would never answer back, because no one could hear him, see him, feel him. Except the Moon.

And the only thing the Moon had ever told him was his name.

_Jack Frost._


End file.
